Thursday, September 10, 2009


Images from Tuesday night stay with me. Mark and Lily in the doorway of the bathroom as I screamed that I was bleeding. Feeling such a horrible, sinking feeling as we drove to the ER. The words coming out of my mouth "I think he is gone. Oh my baby boy, my boy my boy." Marks face, white with fear. Too much blood, too bright on my skin, on the bed, everywhere.

As I lay in the hospital bed, waiting for the nurse to find the heartbeat of my precious son, I experienced pain that I had never known. Such uncertainty, such desperation. Everything in me was screaming, but all I could do was cry, whimper, and call out to God.

And then... his heartbeat. I grabbed the nurses hand, thanked her over and over. Her eyes filled as she said "You are so welcome." She let the doppler rest on my belly for a very long time, just letting me hear him. I knew then she was a mother as well.

It was a moment I will never ever forget. Rescue came, as swift as the tide. It rushed over me, flooding me. The rescue of my very soul, a soul that would have been shattered if that tiny bump bump bump wasn't found. God came. He found me in my anguish. He found me, sought me out, and rescued me. He rescued my son. He restored hope. He came between Mark and I, sat with us in our terror, and comforted us both.

Every test came back normal. The baby was moving, kicking, and doing his practice breathing. His little legs stretched, his heart beat. Proof of life, right there for me to see. The doctor lingered over his heart, letting me see it. She proclaimed him to be happy, totally unconcerned with what was going on in the outside world.

The bleeding slowed and stopped. By the time I went to bed, it was as if it has never happened. Sleep didn't come easy. I spent alot of time with God. I told Him, without any hesitation, that if Samuel was supposed to go to Him now, I could think of no better hands to lose him to. I never asked Him why, because the why is not important. I simply sat at His feet. I didn't need to say many words. What could I say? Nothing is profound enough, no words are enough. Just my heart, open for Him to see.

He is showing me, bit by bit, lesson by lesson, how precious life is. How second chances are real. How treasuring what I have been given is required. That love is a living, vibrant, thriving thing. That the family I have now is the family I was meant to have. I don't deserve them. I can't earn the paradise that I have been given. It is a gift.

So I am humbled. I am brought low, in the sweetest of ways. I am taking not one day with Samuel for granted. I am not hurrying to his due date, or counting the hours until I have him in my arms. I am just loving him with all of myself, every single day. Every moment of discomfort is one that I can remember I have been given life to carry.

Moments of panic are inevitable in this life. I wish I could be at peace every moment of this pregnancy. But just as I am holding my Samuel, my Savior is also holding me. He will carry me if the world falls apart. He never lets go.